Binding Stockings to Skin
by ALC Punk
Summary: Storm and Mystique deal with... issues.


Disclaimer: Mystique and Storm belong to Marvel, as does Xavier. No money is being made.  
  
Notes: This was... gosh, it's PWP, mainly, I think. It was something that got smashed into my brain while I was listening to Suzanne Vega after buying chocolate. Her song "Stockings" to be precise, off of "Nine Objects of Desire".   
  
Timelinewise: This is... Gosh, sometime in the time that Mystique and X-Factor were together, and they were at the mansion (I thought that happened. Perhaps it didn't. If so, think of this as the X-Factor moment that X-Force had after AoA)  
  
Rating: R. Definitely. Possibly more. There's language, sexual situations (female/female. Slash. Lesbian eroticism. Run now, all ye who fear it), and a bit that made me vaguely squeamish, but. Disturbing imagery, maybe? Hrm.  
  
At least they didn't die.  
  
Binding Stockings to Skin  
  
by Ana Lyssie Cotton  
  
It was hard to say when it began. Perhaps that night in Madripoor, or the days in Westchester, seething at one another over a man. But it happened, inevitably, painfully. Raven was caught first, her hands slipping down silky dark skin of their own accord before they were caught in slender fingers.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
Taking. A shift, and she was Forge. "This better, Ororo?"  
  
Stiffness came to the white-clad shoulders, and she pulled back, startled. "Mystique."  
  
"Raven." The shift back is almost painful, leaving her feeling numb. Because this is her, and it's not something she likes anymore. Someone she likes. Not like him, not like her, not like others. "Just Raven now."  
  
Dismissively, the other woman turned away. "I see."  
  
No you don't.   
  
They were in a bar, later, both drawn there by a need to get away from the machinations of the Xavier Institute, the inevitable grinding down of any rebel into a perfect little circle to fit in the professor's holes. Storm was downing white wine as if it were the last drink she could ever have. Her knuckles almost white, sometimes.   
  
"Wanna dance?"  
  
One white eyebrow went up, scorn flashed in dark eyes. "No."  
  
Raven shrugged, "Could be interesting, Ororo. Live a little."  
  
"I think not."  
  
"Ah. Feeling like a stuck-up bitch tonight, are we?"  
  
"While it's none of your business," Ororo began, tone patronizing.  
  
"No, it's not," Cutting across her, voice suddenly brittle. "But I'm here, aren't I? In this god-forsaken yuppie hellhole." She stood, slamming a hand down on the table, palm flat, a sliver of wood sliding in as a matter of course. "I'm trying to be a good little X-Man, just like all the rest of you are. And it's not fucking good enough, is it."  
  
"How can it be?"  
  
"Good question." Shaking her head, Raven turned to leave. "I'm gone. You won't have to worry I'll corrupt your little coterie of followers, O Great Goddess."  
  
She'd made it to the door before a hand on her shoulder stopped her. "Raven. Wait."  
  
Turning, she'd found Ororo standing so close, close enough to reach out and touch. She didn't. "Why should I?"  
  
"I--I don't wish to be alone tonight."  
  
Neither do I. But she shrugged the hand off, "Why not?"  
  
"I don't want to lose control--"  
  
Raven stepped into her; almost close enough to touch along every line of their bodies. She could feel the cool wind coming off of Ororo's skin, as if a hundred tiny whirlwinds danced just below the surface. "And what makes you think I want you in control?"  
  
Something flickered in the other woman's eyes, and she stepped back, defenses snapping back up. "Pardon my assumptions. Please feel free to leave at any time."  
  
Reaching out, Raven caught her cheek, sliding fingers back into that deliciously free white hair. "I'm not leaving anytime soon, Ororo."  
  
For a moment, dark eyes held hers. Then Ororo smiled. "Well, then, why don't we dance."  
  
--  
  
It was a unique sensation, Ororo found. Dancing with a woman rather than a man. Especially a woman she wanted so much to loathe and despise, and yet, she found that she could merely pity her. Or maybe it wasn't pity. Later, she'd remember this with an ironic wonder. That she could have been so blind to what was in front of her.   
  
But they danced chastely, drawing little attention in the crowd that populated the floor. Not even the fact that both were female did more than raise a few eyebrows.   
  
It wasn't until later, stumbling into her attic chamber, half-intoxicated with flying back, the wind in both their hair, that things changed. Mystique ran her hands down Ororo's arms, "You're so silky."  
  
"Practice."  
  
"Mmm." Leaning in, Raven's tongue flickered out, tasting the skin at Ororo's neck. "You taste good, too."  
  
A stiffening of muscles, but something stopped her from pulling back. Some inner prompting that suddenly pointed out how lonely she was. How much she needed this contact. Flesh against flesh, and no holds barred. And it had been so long since she'd let herself really loose. "Raven."  
  
"Hrm?" Blue eyes peered enquiringly at her, the dark of her loft making them almost black.   
  
"I--you're drunk."  
  
"No." There was mockery in those eyes now, and Raven pulled back. "What, Ororo, is the great Weather Goddess getting cold feet?"  
  
"I..." But caution had disappeared somewhere along with her fifth glass of wine. And she was so tired of being lonely. "No. Just surprised that this is going so fast. There's not even any light to see."  
  
"Oh, I can see you fine, with my eyes and ears, nose, fingers... mouth." Arms sliding around her, hands touching, tugging. And mouth... "You taste very nice, Weather Goddess."  
  
Not wanting to pull back, but needing to sit down, lie down before her knees gave, Ororo began drifting back towards her bed.   
  
"Where you goin'?"  
  
"Bed."  
  
"Mmm. Afraid to christen your floor?"  
  
Fingers finished unzipping her dress, and she shivered as it fell to the floor leaving her naked to the caressing gaze of Raven. "I--"  
  
"Shhh." Reaching out, Raven stroked downwards, fingers tickling almost, and Ororo moaned, sudden desire rushing through her. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, my Goddess?"  
  
"Yes." The word was choked out as lips closed on a nipple.  
  
They slid to the floor, Ororo tugging Raven's head up, lips finding lips. Her own hands began moving, touching the other woman, feeling the softness of her body, the muscle in her arms and stomach.   
  
No words of love came from either as they moved. Skin to skin, hands and lips and fingers and tongue. And Ororo came with a cry, the wind swirling through the room suddenly. Raven laughed, and continued, merciless as she pushed again.  
  
An odd heaviness, then, and Ororo found her arms and hands pressed to the floor, a greater weight laying on her. With a shock, she felt something slide deep into her that Raven hadn't had before. She arched into it, an articulate cry half-protest, half-desire ripping from her.  
  
Raven laughed, voice deeper, "Like this, do you?"  
  
"I--" She writhed as the thing inside of her widened, lengthened, thrusting harder, deeper.  
  
And there were no words again, no feeling left but the passion and electricity dancing along both their skins with the sweat.   
  
The face above her changed, this time feral and blond, teeth barred in a snarl as he slammed into her, claws digging into the wood of the attic floor as he held her down.  
  
A moment of fear slid through her, and the feeling broke the hold of her passion. She pushed. "Raven."  
  
"Shut up, Ororo. Don't you like it like this?"  
  
"No, I--" She gasped at the physical release that suddenly took her, driving her up into another whirlwind.  
  
This time, the thunder outside the windows was real.  
  
But there was something raw inside, painful. She pulled from the grasp of the creature Raven had become and scrambled back to her bed, huddling against the side of it as she stared back at where they'd been fucking. There was no other word for that primal, instinct-driven reaction. Something bitter was in her mouth, and she choked it down.   
  
"Ororo?"  
  
Sweat-covered and naked, Raven was herself again. She crawled towards her, eyes unreadable in the darkness.  
  
"Get away from me."  
  
"I..." Hesitant now, Raven stopped just out of reach. "I thought..."  
  
"Well, you were wrong." Frost edged her words, and the storm outside shifted, the light rain becoming sleet.   
  
"Oh, c'mon, lover, it wasn't all bad, was it?" A knowing glint from those blue eyes.  
  
She shivered, "I feel used, Raven."  
  
"But you liked it. I know." She moved closer then, hand stroking up one leg, then down the other.   
  
"I--I can't control what my body feels, Mystique."  
  
"No. But I made a good job of it." Laughter, now, and she moved to slide her hand between Ororo's legs. "Mmm. Oh, yes, I did."  
  
Her body wants it, and so she doesn't resist, even though a part of her is running screaming into the dark. Her legs slide apart, and Raven's fingers slide in. A moan slides from her lips.  
  
"Let's take it slower, shall we? Or do you want fast and furious again my Goddess?"  
  
She was ready for the changes, this time. Her hands free, she slashed at the other woman, nails ripping into rippling flesh. A growl answered her, and she found herself slammed to the floor, head ringing as he pounded into her. She. He. The differences were there, but it was so hard to tell. And they came together this time, the lightning answering with a coruscation of brilliance in the skylight.  
  
"On the bed, Raven."  
  
"Mm." The shape shifter eyed her lazily. "And why should I?"  
  
"Because I want you there. It's my turn, this time."  
  
"Mmm. 'k." Moving languidly, the dark-haired woman climbed onto the bed, tumbling spread-eagled on it, legs invitingly open. "Ready now."  
  
Ororo wasted no time, moving, kissing and licking the breasts so pertly beckoning her, fingers sliding down to tease the dark curls. She realized, then, that it wasn't about pleasuring Raven. It wasn't about giving back what she'd been given. This was about power. About proving she could control, no matter the provocation.   
  
A hand tangled into her hair, and she looked up at Raven. "Hrm?"  
  
"Very tame, aren't you, my Goddess?"  
  
"Tame is only the beginning."  
  
For a moment, golden skin was under her hands, then it was gone, back to the pale cream. "Mmm. Hurry up, then."  
  
But she took her time, making the other woman cry out and beg, pleading for the release denied her under the fingers and tongue Ororo so skillfully used. And when she let her reach that pinnacle, she smiled in satisfaction as Raven shattered under her, body convulsing around her fingers, nipples hardening then softening under her tongue.  
  
Minutes passed, and then Raven stirred. "I should get back to the chamber so cordially provided for me."  
  
Ororo moved, rolling onto her back, eyes roving to watch the stars wheel over her skylight. "Yes. Someone might miss you in the morning."  
  
The bed moved as Raven stood, and she moved quietly and carefully around the loft, searching out her clothing and restoring most of it before returning to the bed. "Good night, Ororo."  
  
"Sleep well, Raven."  
  
"No fear of that," Laughter edged her voice, edged with something almost bitter.  
  
"No fear..." Ororo echoed softly, minutes after the other woman had gone; her eyes fasted on a particular star in the heavens.  
  
-fin- 


End file.
